Before you go accusing me of being a hypocrite, let me admit that in spite of what I wrote yesterday and the day before, I did go to Target today, and I did use my credit card. But here’s the catch: It had nothing to do with Christmas! So I’m off the hook, right? And I hated every minute of it, so at least I’m being consistent in that department.

Actually, no, it’s not true. I didn’t hate every minute. I hated driving over there, because the traffic at noon was stupid. But the parking lot wasn’t packed, the store wasn’t crowded, and the line was short. I won’t go as far as to say that the clerk was friendly, but at least she was competent. Really, that’s all I ask for at this time of year. I even left the store with a smile on my face that lasted right up to the moment I pulled back out onto the street.

Now I’m done, for real this time. And I’m pretty sure I’m done talking about it, too, although there’s no guarantee of that. I’ve committed to writing every day between now and January 6 as part of Holidailies, so I can’t say for sure what might come to mind when I sit down at the keyboard. I only know that something has to, or I’ll be mortally embarrassed at the blankness of the page.

Here’s the thing about the shopping today. Both Mom and Suzanne have birthdays this month. Scaling back Christmas doesn’t mean birthdays get shredded as well. I’m actually pretty pleased with what I’m getting Suzanne, and I’m satisfied with what I’m getting Mom, too. I know she’ll like it, because she told me what she wanted and I got it. That takes the surprise out of it, but not the fun. I’m not going to say what it is, though, because I like to pretend it’s a surprise even when it isn’t. I learned that from Santa.